


You give love a bad name...

by Xobit



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optronix (young Optimus Prime) is a dancer at a strip club, one orn he has a special audience...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You give love a bad name...

he refused to use glitter wax but to please his boss he had gotten his paint changed. It was still red, blue, and silver white with some black and chrome, but it had little crystals in it that were activated under the special light in the club, making his paint change when he danced. No one knew what his real colors were. 

Slowly he began putting on the costume he’d been given for his main performance this dark cycle. It was made to look like organic leather, but of course it wasn’t. Such a material would cost more than the club owner earned in a vorn. The chaps were easy enough to get on, the heavy belt even comfortable as it rested on his hips, the rip releases easy to check too, the pair of panties under it felt as strange as that garment always felt… The vest and the jacket that went with the rest of it was more tricky, but he managed. 

He’d just put the hat on, carefully getting his finials though the holes in it, when one of the servers came through the door. 

“Ooh… looking nice, Opti! I have your cube, you have roughly a breem so I would drink it down now,” Bluestreak was always cheerful, but he was a nice young mech and had an optic for flaws in costumes so Optronix took his words as final approval. Holding out his hand, he took the half cube handed him, trying not to grimace too openly. Bluestreak shook his helmet at him and offlined and onlined his right optic in a quick wink. 

“There are soldiers out there, Opti, and they are packing credits like whoa!” the blue grey mech flittered out again, leaving him to drink down the doctored energon. He did it quickly, almost eagerly for once, it would help him earn credits this dark cycle. Plenty important enough to live with the discomfort it would bring. 

Lastly he clipped the fake gun and their holsters to the heavy belt as a heat began licking at his plating. He sighed and rolled his helmet back, staring unseeing at the ceiling… this was the part of his job that he hated, the fake heat, the lubricant without the desire and arousal. To have to fake it, but he couldn’t always be lucky and have a nice frame in the audience to perform for and fantasize about. 

And now it was time… 

Walking out into the corridor he turned his back on the stage curtains and walked to the bottom of it, short as it was. He turned and listen to the notes of the song coming on, quirking his dermas at the subject on it. As if he had time for romance… good or bad! The notes were taken from inside the song since it normally started with quite a pow, but he had to have time to get on stage for that, and music to time it to. 

Optronix set off on a specific note, ran a few steps and then vaulted though the curtains and onto stage. One hand met the hard floor plating on the stage and he flipped over, landing in a crouch, grabbing one of the fake guns, pointing the muzzle of it at his audience just as the first sentence of the song rang out,

Shot through the spark/

The gun fell to the stage flooring and he fell back, laying prone on it, hand splayed over his chest plates. 

And you're to blame/  
Lover, you give love/  
A bad name/

With the final sentence of the refrain ringing out he moved again, flipping over and getting to his hands and knee joints in a slow sensuous move. He had time now, time to slowly move to the pole at center stage, haul himself up by it and watch his audience while the notes of the music caressed what he was offering, and his valve went from wet to soaking. 

An ascendant’s smile is what you sell/  
You promise me the well and put me through the pit/

The audience was indeed full of the larger than life mechs that came out of Kaon, warrior frames. Quite a lot of them handsome, but the two sitting almost center stage with three smaller seekers… oh, those two were handsome! More than that, so big and strong looking. He wouldn’t have needed that doctored energon this dark cycle, mmm… 

Chains of love got a hold on me/  
When passion's a prison, you can't break free/

Leaning back from the pole, he ground his codpiece and interface panel against it, the panties forming an annoying and familiar barrier between him and the cool metal. He’d much have preferred to be without them, but they were part of his ‘signature’. 

Letting go of the pole with one hand he let the long jacket fall open fully so that his watchers could fully enjoy the exotic outfit before he began peeling it off. 

OH! You're a loaded gun ... yeah/  
OH! There's nowhere to run/

The jacket parted easily at the rip releases and fell to the stage in two parts while he kept on making love to the inanimate and inadequate pole. 

In his processor's optic he was grinding against purple, or maybe pewter gray?, plating, hands gliding in search of hotspots, not after hand holds. 

No one can save me, the damage is done!/

Releasing the pole he ripped off the vest and danced forward, taking the second gun from his belt, posing casually right in front of the center stage table. He chose a new table every dark cycle, but the mechs sitting there this cycle truly deserved the extra good view! 

Shot through the spark/  
And you're to blame/

He tilted the hat back with the tip of the fake gun, then ran the barrel down his faceplates and took the tip in his mouth, making a show of sucking on it before he let it drift further down his chassis. It fell to the stage with a clang and he faintly noted that there was already a good deal of credit chips there.

You give love a bad name/  
I play my part, and you play your game/

His hands returned to his face and he sucked on his finger tips before they too traveled down to hook in his belt.

Thrusting his hips he made sure that all attention in the room was focused on his pelvic.

You give love a bad name/  
You give love a bad name/

Then he ripped off the chaps, fully revealing the blue panties and the pale lilac lubricant that was seeping down his legs. He’d yet to open his panel, but with such a gorgeous audience he was already leaking at the seams, of course that half cube had helped with that too…

Paint your smile on your dermas/  
Bright purple energon on your fingertips/

This song was sure to get the warriors revved, he was glad he’d chosen that one to dance to. Pure luck, but it paid off… he could see it on the faces of his audience, not only the pair he was focused on, and hear it as more credit chips clattered onto the stage. 

Any young mech’s dream, you act so shy/  
Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye/

Optronix blew a kiss for the purple warrior build and then turned his helmet to wink saucily at the gray one. The seekers at the same table chortled, wings raised high in approval, while the targets of his ‘affections' exchanged an unreadable glance.

WHOA! You're a loaded gun/  
WHOA! There's nowhere to run/  
No one can save me the damage is done/

He imagined that they were seizing each other up, getting ready to fight over who got him. He’d go between of course, he could take two mechs… even that big of build. Frag, it would be delicious! 

Shot through the spark/  
And you're to blame/

Mimicking his discarded guns with his hands, he twirled and shot at random mechs while he showed off his chassis. Finally he bent over, aft out and back struts arching taunt. He loved the attention, sometimes he wished that he could take someone home afterwards, or even just to his dressing room… to work the charge out. 

You give love a bad name/  
I play my part, and you play your game/

At times he was glad he didn’t have to.

You give love a bad name/  
You give love.../

He made a show of slowly pulling the panties down, leaving the heavy belt and the empty gun holsters in place. With the cloth down around his knee joints he turned again, hand shielding his panel even as he opened it, and lubricant gushed out to run down his legs, though his fingers…

OH! Shot through the spark/  
And you're to blame/  
You give love a bad name/

He sank to the floor plating, leaning back till he could only see the ceiling lights, legs bent and spread wide as he pushed his fingers into the soaked folds of his valve. No mercy tonight, he wanted to imagine something big… something huge and massive and hard!

I play my part, and you play your game/  
You give love a bad name/

Something that might be found between the thighs of either one of the huge warrior builds who were, hopefully, riveted to his finger play this very instance. 

Shot through the spark/  
And you're to blame/  
You give love a bad name/

It wasn’t always that he could overload on stage, he did his best to do so every time but he had learned to fake it. 

I play my part, and you play your game/  
You give love a bad name/

He didn’t need to fake it this time, shaking with the force of it.

You give love.../  
You give love... bad name/

He got up again, sliding his legs to the side so he could take the panties off completely on the way. 

You give love.../  
You give love... bad name/

When he stood again he playfully licked lubricant off the hand holding them, letting them dangle enticingly from his fingers. 

Then he bundled them up and turned to go.

You give love.../  
You give love... bad name/

The casual toss was nothing of the sort and he knew where they would land. He did wonder if the recipient would have a fight at hand over them…

* * *

“Well, are you not the lucky one general…” Skywarp’s purr was teasing, said mostly to hear his trine mates crack up. Not that Megatron’s somewhat sour grimace wasn’t worth a crack up all on its own.

“Disappointed, my lord?” the purple mech leaned back and twirled his prize around one clawed finger. He could feel his twin seethe at the teasing, it was rare indeed that something, or someone, he wanted didn’t respond back favorably. Galvatron smiled ferally, not that they didn’t end up sharing anyway… 

“I believe I shall live, brother mine… and it's Megatron this dark cycle, as you well know,” my my, was he ever miffed!

* * *

He’d earned his rent… actually he had earned his rent for the next two groons plus something to treat himself with! And he had gotten off spectacularly well too. 

And it was only the first performance!

Sadly it proved that his chosen focus of the night had gone by the time his second performance came around, but he could overload very well to his few memories of them, and his fantasies, less few and very exciting. 

When he returned to his dressing room after the fourth and finally performance he was a very happy mech. He could be sure to have a home for the next four groons and be well fed t… what was that?

On his table stood a wrapped box, performers did sometimes get presents from admirers but usually they were more in the form of hard credits or crystals. This could of course be either one, but it was an awful lot of credits, or a very odd crystal. 

It was a very hesitant Optronix that opened it and set it down, backing off with a gasp of pure shock.

It was full of wax constructs, an expensive cake he had never tasted. And there was a flask in there, it’s label said ‘alkoól’. He’d only ever heard of that! Not seen it anywhere…

There was also a small data pad.

‘ _Changer,_

_Thank you for the performance, we regret being unable to stay for the rest of the dark cycle but we hope that this gift may show our spark deep appreciation,_

_Megs & Galvy_

It wasn’t till Optronix got home and eat some of the delicate, and sinful in the best of ways, wax constructs that he found the data card under them. 

It held enough credits to get him safely though university and into the academy without having a job on the side at all…

**Author's Note:**

> 'You Give Love a Bad Name' is copyrighted to Bon Jovi (far as I know) and I took great liberties with the text, also I can't sing but for the sake of it lets say the song actually fits as I rewrote it. 
> 
> [Art by Murr-Miay](http://murr-miay.deviantart.com/art/In-club-124368876)
> 
> Beta  
> AKzeal


End file.
